


We Find Ourselves Together... Somehow

by ehhhchimatsu



Series: In Which Forbidden Dorks do Normal Merc Things [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, Slow Build, cross faction, speeding bullet, tags and rating may change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4808348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ehhhchimatsu/pseuds/ehhhchimatsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sniper gets a knock on his camper van, the last person he expects to see is his team's Scout. Who is acting very not-Scout-like. What's the deal?<br/>(Or, the story of how Sniper and Scout met.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Find Ourselves Together... Somehow

A peek outside the camper window told Sniper that he didn't have much sunlight left to do the dishes by. A glance at his watch, safely set aside on the counter to avoid the water, confirmed it - about 7:35 PM. Not much longer and the desert would turn dark, bringing with it the highly appreciated cooler temperature. 

It wasn't that Sniper actually minded the heat so much - living in the Outback for a good portion of his life had given him the chance to get used to extreme sun. But he still found himself enjoying crisp, cool nights, where he could lay under the stars and not sweat like a hog under trial.

He was just about done with the last of the kitchenware when a knock at the door brought him out of his stupor.

He grabbed a nearby rag, wiping his hands dry as he made his way to the door. Opening it up, towel still in hand, he found his team's Scout standing rather bashfully, and quickly looking up from the ground.

"Kid? Ya need somethin'?" The younger looked... off. He looked tense, and nervous, and those weren't words that Sniper would ever use to associate with the boy. 

Not to mention that this was the first time the kid ever showed up at his camper. The most they had ever done was chat briefly after a battle, and typically that was a one-sided conversation. 

"Hey, uh, Snipes! Haha, well, I was, uh. Just in the neighbahhood. Runnin'. And wanted ta know if I could come in for a bit? Ta hang?" He twiddled his thumbs, anxiety written all over his scrawny body.

Sniper sniffed, his face the definition of blank, thinking the situation over. This was obviously really suspicious, there weren't no two ways about it. 

He couldn't have been one of the Spies, though. Both Scouts were loud and boisterous - what else would you expect from people who looked exactly alike? - and the Spies would be smarter than to mimic... well, whatever this Scout was playing at. 

Or maybe the Spies were smart enough to do that.

Either way, Sniper held himself up to the standard of at least being a polite host. And if the runt happened to pull out a balisong on him, he'd have to resort to pulling out his own Bowie.

The Scout had began rubbing at his arm and picking at the fabric of his BLU uniform in the few seconds that had gone by since he had inquired about coming in. 

Sniper shrugged. "Sure." 

Opening the door wider, Sniper stepped aside to let Scout in, careful to not turn his back. The boy hopped up the steps, and it could be seen that the nervousness that had previously occupied him had melted away.

"Make yerself at home, mate. The place is a lil' bit messy, sorry 'bout that."

The younger one stood in the middle of the camper, just looking around in awe as Sniper closed the door.

The camper itself was fairly small, but tall enough for Sniper and well lived in. Knick knacks were strewn around, souvenirs from different countries the assassin had done jobs in. A fold-out table and booth accentuated the middle of the place, some old newspapers covering a good chunk of the area. A few steps from that and a door stood, presumably to a tiny wash room. At the end of the camper, a ladder led up to a shabby-looking bed, but the sheets were made nicely.

Scout liked it, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Sniper cleared his throat, forgetting that the man was directly behind him.

"Oi'd offer ya a cuppa, but it seems yer jittery enough, an' Oi ran outta decaf this mornin'. Longneck?"

Scout turned around, a confused look on his face. "'Longneck?'" He repeated.

"Beer, mate. Oi got some Blu Streak, and 's'okay." He paused, and then teased, "Unless yer underage?"

At this, Scout's brows furrowed and he huffed a breath of annoyance, crossing his arms defensively. "Listen here, chump. I ain't no undahage, pubescent little dweeb. I'm a grown man, and have been drinkin' since before I was employed here, buddy."

Now this was the Scout that Sniper knew, Sniper thought as he laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Easy there, ya lil' ankle biter. Oi was just joshin', no need to get all roiled up on me in me own home." He went over to the mini fridge, crouching down to open the door. "So, beer or nah?" He looked up expectantly at the tyke.

"Yeah, please and thanks, man."

Fetching out two beers, he stood up and shut the door with his foot, looking around for a bottle opener. "Quoite the manners ya got there."

Scout flopped down at one side of the booth, rolling his eyes. "My ma didn't raise no heathens. How else would she've put up with all my brothahs and me?"

Finally finding what he was looking for, Sniper took the caps off and sat down at the other side of the booth, sliding Scout his beer across the table.

Catching it before it went off the edge, Scout took a long swig, his tongue enjoying the bitter aftertaste the drink left. "This is much bettah than-" He suddenly stopped, and Sniper stopped taking a drink from his own drink to stare at the lad. 

"Somethin' wrong, mate?" Behind his glasses, his eyes were squinting at the boy in suspicion. 

Scout quickly recovered. "Nah, nah! Just, I was gonna say that this is much bettah than the stuff I was evah used to back home in Boston. We were too poor to get any'a the good stuff most'a the time."

Sniper, not fully convinced that that was what the boy was going to say, nodded. "Best beer Oi ever had was over in Germany. Fellas know how to brew a bloody good'n."

Scout perked up, interested. "Germany? Sweet, man! Did ya know that Germany produces the most silvah outta every other European country?"

Sniper blinked, momentarily phased by the random fact. "Nah, couldn't say Oi did know that. Where did ya learn that?"

"Well..." Scout smiled sheepishly, looking away and scratching his neck. Looking back, he said, "Rocks an' minerals are kinda my thing. Always been interested in 'em, I guess."

Sniper smiled. "A mate's gotta have somethin' to keep him occupied." He paused for a second, thinking. "Oi think Oi have somethin' ya might be int'rested in havin' a look at. Stay here a seccy."

He got up from the table, and went over to a cabinet in the kitchen area. Opening it up, he grabbed something from it and closed it promptly. He went back to the booth and sat down, prompting the kid to hold out his hands. 

Scout did so, and once the object was dropped into them looked at it in disbelief. 

In his hands was a genuine tanzanite, blue and sparkling and the perfect size. "No way... How did ya get this?"

Sniper smirked slightly, glad he had something that made the kid awestruck. "'Bout ten years ago Oi was doin' a job in Tanzania. Oi loike to get lil' trinkets from places Oi've been, decided to get that beaut."

"It's gorgeous, Snipes. Just. Wow."

Sniper laughed. "Speechless for once, ya little ankle boiter?"

Scout rolled his eyes once more, a habit that he seemed to have perfected. "Puh-lease! Can't a guy marvel at a rock in silence for a moment? Geez." He suddenly glanced out the window and saw how dark it was outside, his eyes going slightly wider. "Aw, crap, what time is it?"

Sniper got up and went over to the kitchen counter, to where his watch was still sitting from earlier. "Close to eighty thirty. Ya should probably head back to base if ya don't fancy stumblin' through the night."

Scout nodded, setting the tanzanite on the table and standing up, making his way to the door. Opening the door, he looked back at Sniper, smiling. "Thanks for lettin' me bug ya. See ya tomorrow?"

Sniper, in spite of his earlier suspicions of the boy, found himself smiling back. "Sounds aces. G'night."

"Night!"

And with a banging of the door, he was gone.


End file.
